Always
by TiliaofAnkh
Summary: Sam Vimes dies and Sybil gets told ... I promise the story is better than it sounds! One-shot. Rated K Please give me some reviews, I'd be very grateful for any critiques! :)


**I'm still alive! :D **

**Well, that's a little one-shot, better said a part from the sequel to 'Here fill your name in' ... I felt in the mood for somethin Sam&Sybil-ish ... and here we go! It's depressive but ... MAYBE it's got a Happy End ... ****So read on and find out!  
**

* * *

Sybil sat on the bed and stared at her hands.

She felt like she was lost in the deep see, slowly and slowly sinking into the water ... no air she could breath, no sky she could see ...

She couldn't believe it.

Sam. Sam Vimes.

Dead.

Never, never again ...

His eyes ... his voice ... his smile ... she would never see it again, never feel his hands again ... never again she would feel his strengh beside her.

The tears were still streaming down her face, but she was not aware them any longer. It seemed, like they had been there since Fred Colon had been standing in front of the door, instead of Sam.

* * *

_Sybil was drinking tee as the doorbells rang._

_Young Sam was jumping up and down, excited. 'Mummy, maybe it's Daddy!'_

'_Yes, maybe', his mother smiled, stood up and stepped into the hallway._

_She opened the door._

'_Sam, you're home early ...' Her voice trailed off as she saw the man's face. It wasn't her husbands. Fred Colon was standing uncomfortably in the door, the helmet in his hands._

'_I ... I'm sorry, Lady Sybil, I ... is this a bad moment?', he said._

_Sybil smiled. 'Oh no, please come in, Fred! I just thought it was Sam coming home early ... would you like a cup of tea?'_

'_Er ... yes, please.'_

_He didn't look at her, avoiding her eyes as he stepped carefully in, turning the helmet in his hands._

_Sybil felt something was wrong. She looked nervous at Young Sam and said sharply: 'Sam - go upstairs, please. I have to talk with the Seargent. I'll be upstairs in a minute.'_

'_But Mummy, I-'_

'_Go upstairs, Sam!'_

'_Okay ...'_

_Young Sam slowly tapped away on his little feet._

_In the door to the Ghastly Pink Drawing Room Fred swallowed, took a deep and shaky breath and said: 'I ... I guess you should better sit down, Lady Sybil.'_

_Lady Sybil was looking at him with a blank expression._

'_It's about the commander', said Colon._

'_He is dead.'_

_The world stopped moving._

_It felt like a lifetime as she slowly sank down to a chair. Emptiness was around her as she whispered: 'What?'_

_Fred looked at her, almost begging, like he wanted to say 'Please don't make me say it again', but did it although. 'Sam Vimes is dead. His badge and the cigar case werde found half an hour ago on the Ankh.'_

'_No', she breathed. _

_No, he can't be, not HIM, not Sam!_

'_Sybil ...'_

_She stood up, so quickly the chair fell off. '_No_.', she shouted. 'He is not dead! He ... he just can't be ... not ... not him ... not _**my**_ Sam!'_

_Her mind had understood it, but her heart wasn't.  
He just couldn't. He was always so ... strong and resistent. He got hurt, but he everytime stood up again, fighting on. He always got home._

_He just _always_ got._

_He couldn't stop now._

_He couldn't leave them alone._

* * *

And now Sybil sat on their - _her_ - bed and cried.

The tears had found their way to her eyes after Colon was gone.

When she had married Sam, she knew well enough what it meant being a policeman. What it meant for him wearing the badge.

And she knew there had always been a ... risk. But time had passed, and she'd got used to his strengh, she stopped being aware what could happen.

Sybil remembered the first time he had kissed her.

Although she'd never forget it, this memory had been lurking in the shadows, like the moment she held their newborn child in her arms, saying 'His name's Sam, Sam. And no argument!' - and he had said with a wide, happy grin: 'I'll teach him walk! I'm GOOD at teaching people walk!'

Later he had told her where he came from. Later.

And this was the moment where she really knew how strong he was - because living in the past is hard. But dying in the past is incredibly easy. And he didn't. He came back.

Her hands were circling on the bedsheet, her tears dropping down on the fabric.

But then her hand found something ...

She held it up, so the moonlight glimmered onto the cheap brass.

His badge.

Sam Vimes' badge.

The badge he'd lived for.

Colon had told her the typical phrase. It was, what everyone said if a watchman died. _'He was a good man and he did his duty._' Colon had also said '_He died in charge of his duty. He was the bravest man I ever knew and a friend. I'm sorry.'_

_In charge of his duty_ ...

He told her he wanted to chase him alone. He said '_That man's dangerous and really getting on my nerves - I'll sort that out and then finally have my rest!'_

Sybil smiled weakly as she saw his face, how she knew it was looking like.

It was the expression she'd seen so many times, like the day on the Willinus Pass.

'_Are you allright, dear?'_

'_Yes, Sam.'_

'_You're not hurt?'  
'No ...'_

Later she had cried, although she didn't want to. But the tears came, in front of him.

'_Sybil, is everything okay?'_

'_I'm sorry for letting you down, Sam. But it was so terrible.'_

He didn't kiss her. He didn't hug her. There was just his uncomfortable shoulder patting.

This time at the bar she'd felt awful. But, later, in their room she saw his soothingly, lovingly husband side.

Her hand clutched around the badge, so tightly it cut into her fingers but she didn't felt the pain. She just tried to see his face while she was holding it.

* * *

Later, at night, Sybil couldn't sleep.

She had gone into Young Sam's room.

_He looked at her with big eyes and asked: 'What did Uncle Fred came for, Mummy?'_

_Sybil knew he'd ask this question and gulped._

_Then she managed a little smile, though her voice was shaking: 'He just brought a ... a message from Daddy.'_

'_Oh!' Young Sams eyes lit up._

'_And what was that message?'_

_Sybil closed her eyes. She was trembling, as she quietly said: 'Daddy ... Daddy won't be coming home for a while, he ... he has to work, you know.'_

'_Oh ... okay ...'  
_

_'Goodnight, Sam.'_

_Oh, how she loved the sound of his name ..._

'_G'night, Mummy.'_

_She kissed him on the forehead and looked into her son's deep, brown eyes, that were just like her husband's. 'I ... I love you, Sam. You know that?'_

_Sam smiled. 'Sure, Mummy. Love you too.'_

_She stood up and blow out the candle._

'_Sleep well, Sam.'_

'_Don't dream of your father', she thought. 'Please don't. 'Cause I'll be doing it.'_

* * *

She gave up.

Here she couldn't find sleep.

She just felt so ... lonely in this bed.

Strange. Though it was the same bed she'd slept in alone before she had married Sam, it never felt this big and empty.

Sybil stood up, slipped into her warm coat and went outside.

The air was cold and clear, like ice that filled her lungs. Upside here even a little bit snow was laying on the grass ...

Suddenly she saw a figure standing out in the darkness. She'd never been frightened from strangers. She'd been taught nothing _can't_ be settled without a kind smile and encouraging words.

But this night she hadn't the words, neither the smile.

'Hello?', she called out into the darkness and her voice sounded small and lost. 'Is anybody there?'

The bitterness of this moment took her to add: 'If you come for telling me my husband's dead, you're too late. I was told already.'

'No. I didn't came for telling you he's dead. I'm coming for telling you he's alive.'

And then she saw Sam.

And Sybil thought:_ 'It'd be stupid running to him and crying.'_

She did it although.

'_Sam!'_

She ran towards him, flung her arms around him and started sobbing into his soaked-through shirt. He just stood there, his hands circling smoothingly on her back, whispering: 'Shh, Sybil, I'm here. It's okay, I'm here.'

Sybil pulled back and looked into his face. He looked tired and ill, but he was alive. He was alive, he came back ...

Sam smiled.

And the world moved.

Tears shone in the moonlight as Sam bent down his head and kissed her hard.

Sybil closed her eyes. She'd ask later what happened.

Now she just wanted to be filled again with the emotions that were taken away a couple of hours ago.

* * *

'Daddy?', little Sam cried and hugged him. 'I thought you're not coming home today! Mummy said you had to work!'

Vimes forced a grin to his lips. 'Well, yes, but there was nothing left to do for me, so ... I thought I'd come home to wife and son!'

Young Sam smiled widely and snuggeled against his father as he put him back to bed again. 'Love you, Daddy.'

Vimes smiled and ran one hand through Sam's hair. 'I love you too, Sam. Good night. See you tomorrow.'

'In luck', he thought.

'G'night, Daddy.'

Sam stood up and went back into their bedroom, where Sybil was waiting.

They just sat there and looked at each other, speechless. And only wrapped in silence he reached out his hand and gently stroke her cheek.

Sybil closed her eyes and the tears came again. A moment later she started sobbing again. Sam pulled her at his chest where she rested her head and cried.

'I ... I thought y-you were ...' she whispered.

Sam said nothing, just said there and gently pressed a kiss into her hair.

Sybil was breathing heavingly but tried to calm down in her husband's arms, deeply inhaled his warm scent. It worked. She sat upright and brushed away the tears.

Sam Vimes sat there right next to her, now smiling lovingly, his brown eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

'Sam?'  
'Yes?'  
'Please tell me what happened.'

Sam sighed. 'I told you about this Ronald Hiccup?'

She nodded.

'He had been near the Shades, so I decided going there and finally putting him into cellar, so I'd have peace - he was really getting on my nerves. The chase took us into a dark street, near the Ankh. And I don't know why, but somehow he got pushing me into the ... stream. It was terrible. I couldn't breath, there was only darkness and some things I hope I'll never find out what they were', he gave a snort of laughter, 'The next thing I remember is that I woke up on the cobbles, seeing _Gaspode _standing there. He told me about you and Young Sam and the watch and that I'm dead, better said, everyone believes in I'm dead ... and that Hiccup's escaped.'

Sybil kept silent for a while, but as she spoke her face was determinded. 'What are we going to do now?'

Sam blinked. 'Um ... _we?_'

His wife shrugged. 'Yes. We. Do you think I'm letting you get away with it?'

'No, I just thought ...'

She raised her hand. 'Sam. You're my husband. And I'm your wife. We've got a little son. We are a family. A family I thought I'd lost. I thought about one hour ago you were _dead_, Sam. And if you think after all that I'm going to sit here, quietly and going on with wifey stuff, you're wrong like never ever in your life. I'm going to help you, whatever it is.'

Vimes stared at his wife. Everytime he was amazed by the strengh of this woman.

At every other time he'd have said something like 'Okay' or 'Thank you' or 'I don't want you get in danger' - but this time he just looked in her eyes and said quietly: 'I love you.'

Sybil smiled. This answer was enough for her.

And Sam kissed her again.

They sank down into the pillars, enjoing this moment of peace and silence.

And Sybil knew: this was right here, right now ... and right here and right now everything was well.

**The End**


End file.
